Child of the Wind
by Scriptive
Summary: Sam won't stop crying and John's surprised they haven't gotten kicked out of the motel yet. Wee!Chester fic.


**Child Of The Wind**

The toddler screamed. Face red and eyes scrunched. John ran a weary hand over his face and sighed. It was almost two in the morning and he was surprised a hotel attendant hadn't come pounding on the motel door, telling him he was going to have to check out due to noise complaints. It wouldn't have been the first time, that's for sure.

"Sammy, give your Dad a break kid." John mumbled. Dean watched from the motel bed with big soulful eyes. Sam cried and cried, with no sign of backing down anytime soon.

John remembered when Sam was born. He was three weeks early and colicky from the start, leaving no justice when it came to catching up on sleep. During the nights when feeding, rocking or a diaper change wouldn't soothe the infant, Mary would sing (and god, for the life of him John couldn't remember the song) and Sam had always calmed down. John would lay in bed, listening to her beautiful voice.

Sam's screams kicked up a notch, snapping John out of his memory. He sighed again, picking up the toddler. What did he have to lose? Softly, John began to sing.

_I love the pounding of hooves_

_I love engines that roar_

_I love the wild music of waves on the shore_

_And the spiral perfection of a hawk when it soars_

_Love my sweet woman down to the core_

The thought of Mary made his throat burn and his stomach clench. The toddler must have sensed John's discomfort be he squirmed, letting out a soft whimper. John shifted Sam onto his shoulder, rocking him slowly.

_There's roads and there's roads_

_And they call, can't you hear it? _

_Roads of the earth_

_And roads of the spirit_

_The best roads of all_

_Are the ones that aren't certain_

_One of those is where you'll find me_

_Till thy drop the big curtain_

It was funny. John used to hate being on the road. In fact, he often got carsick. After he had completed his stretch in the Marines, he craved for stability and wanted nothing more than a home and family. But after Mary's death, the road was more familiar than any city or town. The same Impala that he had taken Mary out in on the first date now cruised the open roads with a car seat in back.

_Hear the wind moan_

_In the bright diamond sky_

_These mountains are waiting_

_Brown-green and dry_

_I'm too old for the term_

_But I'll use it anyway_

_I'll be a child of the wind_

_Till the end of my days_

Sam was now completely quiet. John didn't know if it was a blessing or curse that Sam would grow up without remembering his mother. After all, he would never know what to miss. But Dean. Dean would.

_Little round planet_

_In a big universe_

_Sometimes it looks blessed_

_Sometimes it looks cursed_

_Depends on what you look at obviously_

_But even more it depends on the way that you see it_

John made his way over to the motel bathroom. Sam's head was heavy on his shoulder and from a glance in the mirror; John could see that his eyes were closed. He let out a deep breath in relief. His oldest son remained on the bed, the covers wrapped around him, hair mussed.

"Hey buddy." John whispered. "Your brother finally decided to seize fire."

Dean didn't move; just stared at John, eyes observant like always. John took a seat in the worn chair next to the window, repositioning the toddler so he leaned against John's chest.

Slowly, Dean rose from the bed and slid to the floor, wearing the blanket like a cape. He padded over to John, stopping to stand in front of him. John smiled and motioned for Dean to sit beside him.

Dean climbed onto John's lap, careful not to bump his sleeping brother. He pressed himself into the crook of John's arm and buried his face in John's flannel shirt. John felt Dean's fingers curl around his own. It was a moment before Dean stilled and looked up at him. Even though Dean rarely spoke, John knew what the kid was trying to convey just by the look in his eyes.

"I miss her too."

_Hear the wind moan_

_In the bright diamond sky_

_These mountains are waiting_

_Brown-green and dry_

_I'm too old for the term_

_But I'll use it anyway_

_I'll be a child of the wind_

_Till the end of my days_

**- - - - - - - - - **

**The song is "Child of the Wind" by Bruce Cockburn.**

**It's a good song. I suggest you listen to it!**

**Oh and Pretty Please drop a review. **

**You know you want to :D**


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